


Reward

by vyxythepixie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:08:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22563763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vyxythepixie/pseuds/vyxythepixie
Summary: Need something fixing when the end was not as you hoped? There's a god you might not know you could pray to.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	Reward

“Well, that’s a long way down.”

The two figures stood upon the cliff’s edge in this dark and haunted place. Its air was thick with death and sorrow, a monument to ultimate sacrifice, the stone circle far below like an eerie two-dimensional world spattered in blood.

“Why are you here, god of mischief?”

“I know why _you_ are here,” Loki sneered at Vormir’s guardian. “Unworthy of wielding the Stones, they saw fit to play games with your fate.”

“I gather yours was almost sealed by your dealings with them.”

The god chuckled. “Mm. The key word there is almost.”

“If you seek the Stone, it can only be -.”

“Yes, yes, blah, blah, sacrifice. I know the terms.” Loki waved a dismissive hand. “The thing is, I know things, Skull, things you could not possibly fathom. The Stones have shown you a glimpse, I’m sure, and even I have not stepped into the realms they promise, but they have told me secrets. This is not done. This universe needs her back. In time, it needs everyone back. We all have our parts to play.”

The Red Skull scoffed. “You have nothing to give. You offer no family and if you offer yourself then there will be no one to claim the Stone. This is outside your power.”

“Hm.” Loki’s smile was darker and more potent than it had ever been. “Oh, no. This is _exactly_ what’s in my power. I am no master of the elements, no conqueror of realms, no one true saviour, no heart, no mind, no weapon, no shield. I am the dancer in between, the everlasting, the laugh that lasts into the void. I am only needed when all hope is lost. She is the first wrong I will right, for they are more than people. And I am more than you know.”

He stood at the precipice and took a long breath of the bitter, mournful air, sighing in delight; revelling in chaos.

“You will die.”

“Of course I will. But that’s never stopped me before.”

He dove off into empty air.

The fall might not have killed him. He was sure he had fallen farther in his time. Except this was no ordinary cliff. He felt the life draining from his bones as he soared down, teeth bared, neither fighting nor surrendering, _forcing_ his death upon the ancient magics on this world. What happened when he hit the stone was like fire, a burst of energy, white hot and then dust. The spectacle denied any gruesome image of a god’s corpse.

A hand closed around the Soul Stone, its nails polished black. It tossed the gem up and down a few times, such disrespect drawing the attention of the guardian. The Red Skull appeared before the figure who stood in the pool.

“This is not possible. You cannot bend the rules.”

“You forget who you’re talking to. Then again, we’ve not been properly introduced.” A cracked tooth showed in the figure’s grin, a small pair of golden horns nestled on his head. His leather coat was frayed at the edges, hair shorter yet still wild. The face was as it had been, except for perhaps a hint more _green_ in the eyes. “I am Loki, god of mischief, of lies, of numerous less remembered things, but today, most importantly of all..”

“I am god of _stories_.”

Loki clasped the Soul Stone in his hand and thrust it out, golden light bursting from his fist.

“I am a creature of many lives, a tale told time and time again, woven throughout existence, as are we all. Only I get a teensy bit of an advantage. I surrendered that life and am born anew. The old Loki is dead, long live Loki. I am me, always me, no matter the story written. No matter the ending I will always have a beginning. I trade one life for another, and since I am a god, and since one life was enough to restore half of sentience before, I think the Stone won’t begrudge me bringing back a little extra.”

The Stone’s light receded. Before them stood a woman, dressed in black, her hair striking red. Loki turned his back on Vormir’s guardian, a receptacle for his exposition he no longer needed.

“Is this love, Loki?” She folded her arms, an eyebrow quirked. “My sacrifice gets undermined by an undeserving monster so in love with himself he can cheat?”

He laughed sharply. “Oh, I don’t love _myself_ , Romanoff. What I love more than anything else, more than life, more than family, more than the contentment of my insatiable restless soul, is the _story_. I simply traded one for another, and it’s still going.”

Loki held out his hand. “Care to rewrite a few endings with me?”


End file.
